Expectations
by Your Local Witch
Summary: You could call it PercyOliver pre-slash. It's graduation day, and Oliver does much contemplation of his roommate after a mild debate about a hat. Oneshotness. Please review and enjoy!


**Expectations**

Oliver Wood frowned down at his hat. It had been bothering him for quite some time, and he didn't know what to do with it quite yet. It was black, made ofa felt-like material, none too comfortable and... pointy. Across the room, his room mate Percy Weasley fussed with his robes before the mirror, straightening and generally perfecting the look of chronic disapproval and absolute perfection that seemed to go along with the title of Head Boy. After looking at his hat for another moment, Oliver tossed it back onto his bed. Percy noticed this in the mirror, and, not turning his head, furrowed his brow dissaprovingly.

"What are you doing?" He questioned levelly to Oliver's distant reflection.

"I'm not wearing it."

Percy seemed to nearly blanch, his eyes widening almost comically behind the frames of his hornrimmed glasses. When he turned from the mirror, the light shone on his Head Boy badge just so, a constant reminder of the position. His face was the picture of scandalized outrage that only he could emote, and his glasses flashed with cleanliness as if to emphasize this expression. "What do you mean? You're _supposed_ to wear it."

Oliver shrugged casually, not bothering to look up at Percy's outraged perfection. It wasn't like he hadn't seen him like this before; no rush to repeat history. "I'm not wearing it." He sat down on his bed and busied himself with re-tying his shoelace.

"You can't just _not_ wear it!" Percy spluttered, walking over to him, planting his fists on hips."It's against the rules." Only Percy. Every word had the exact correct amount of emphasis put on it, though it hardly bothered Oliver anymore. He had learned to ignore it after a few years of it, though wasn't negatively inclined to Percy himself.

Oliver slowly tilted his head up, hands still on his laces. He stared at Percy's red face, eyebrows raised but eyes showing no sarcasm, and stated quite simply, "I'm not wearing it." His brogue didn't lose its charm, nor did his eyes, and it seemed that Percy didn't take note of either. He had never been one to be swayed by Oliver's oddly blunt charm. They stared each other down, Percy looking down in shock and anger, Oliver looking up with mild defiance. After a moment or so, Percy averted his eyes, giving a slight cough as he moved away. He stepped back to the mirror and fussed with his tie some more, though it certainly didn't need it, feeling awkward in the silence of the room, though Oliver seemed perfectly comfortable.

"I just don't see why you have to go and break the rules now. It's the last day of school, so you might as well go out with a clean record." Percy said, face even more red at the loss of the staring contest, still fiddling with his tie in the mirror.

"They just look silly," Oliver stated with a mild shrug, looking over at his discarded hat. "I doubt the teachers will even notice. I think they're just concerned with getting us out as quickly as possible." He gave a small smirk at this thought. Percy frowned, but Oliver didn't notice. He gave a sigh and layed back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling that he had been staring at every night there. These last minutes in the dormitory, these last minutes before leaving his home of seven years, were often the moments of graduation day that Oliver remembered the most vividly. The dust motes dancing in the brilliant sun that shone through the window, casting light over the foot of his bed and the mirror on the wall, his ginger haired room-mate there, a constant, somewhat irritating, somewhat amusing, somewhat comforting presence. It was the same sun that glinted on Percy's Prefect badge in the late afternoon, reminding Oliver of his room-mate's perfection that he would later recognize as, not perfection, but a hard-won place on the academic heirarchy, backed with insecurity and some amount of jealousy. Oliver hadn't pitied Percy at the time- he hadn't known what to think of him. The dormitory's smell was one of clean laundry and dust, but also with that indescribable dorm smell that you just couldn't put a name on. Oliver was hardly listening as Percy made his next statement, thinking about the many young wizards that had grown up in this room before and the many that would come to follow.

"A lot of things are silly, but we're forced to do some of them." Percy said in a world weary fashion, sounding far more haughty than he intended to, Oliver was forgivingly sure, and finally turned from the mirror to go sit on his own bed across from Oliver's. His blue eyes were clear and serious behind the hornrimmed frames. "Is that going to stop you from doing them?"

"Maybe," Oliver said after a moment, weighing the question. Was this just more of Percy's attention seeking dialogue, or did the question actually have validity? It was hard to tell.

"Are you going to stop paying income taxes? Are you going to stop wearing clothes on the street? Are you going to neglect to bathe? You can't stop doing things just because you think they're silly." Percy went on.

Oliver rolled on his stomach to face him, quirking an eyebrow. "What do you think, Percy?" He paused. "I, personally, think this tells us something important about our Head Boy."

"And what would that be?" Percy ventured.

"That he thinks income taxes, clothes and showers are silly."

Percy reddened from his eartips to below his collar. "No- I- I was just making the point that-"

Oliver was grinning. "I know what point you were making. Problem with it was it had nothing to do with me not wearing my hat."

"I think it had everything to do with it!" Percy raged, standing up. "Your flippant use of sarcasm disgusts me!" Oliver watched him stomp to the window and look out angrily._ Weasleys_, Oliver mused, somewhat tickled at this irrational display of emotion, as he stared at the back of Percy's spotless robes, _too much temper and not enough to do with it._

After a few minutes, Oliver chose to speak. "You never answered my question, you know." He directed this comment at Percy from his position on the bed.

"I don't recall a question." Percy didn't look at Oliver as he answered, still staring out the window. His spine was poker-straight and his arms were crossed, giving him the appearance of some old count, brooding over his grounds from his dusty study.

"When I asked what you think. Don't you think some of these things are silly?"

"Like what? Like clothes and income taxes?"

"Sure. And hats and showers."

Percy paused. Oliver could practically see him weighing the options, the pros and cons of answering a certain way.

"Maybe." Percy answered slowly, then turned around, leaning against the sill, lost in thought. Oliver liked that stance much better for Percy. Much more casual. His elbows were leaned on the sill, the midmorning sun illuminating him in a shaft of lght, his hair set ablaze with color. His pale face, accented with a spattering of freckles, was sober and calm. "Well," he began in a speculative voice, "I guess I don't." Oliver chuckled.

"Sure you do." He knew this conversation was going beyond income taxes and hats. He shifted his weight on his bed, getting comfortable. They were now referring to expectations and life in general. "Isn't there something, some rule imposed by society that you don't like?" Oliver was a bit surprised that he was talking to Percy about this, but he was curious to know. Percy had always either been an open book or a complete enigma, depending on what you wanted to know.

Percy continued staring off. "Perhaps," he answered, as if not listening. That was fine with Oliver. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling again, as content as he could be.

"We should probably get going soon." Oliver said after about five minutes, not sure when he and Percy had become 'we.' He supposed it was fitting, considering the fact that they were the only seventh year boys and this was their graduation. Percy nodded, pushing himself off of the windowsill and stepping forward. Oliver sat up and placed his feet on the floor, unconsciously rubbing a hand through his slightly mussed hair. Percy nodded from across the room, then looked to Oliver. Suddenly, he gave an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. Before Oliver could question, he had walked over and was smoothing Oliver's hair, a look of annoyed concentration on his face.

Oliver gave a gradual smile. He felt overwhelmingly cared for for just a moment, and that gave him a reason to be cheeky. "What does it matter if I'm just going to wear my hat anyway?" Percy stepped back, fists on hips again,staring at Oliverwith a quirked eyebrow.

"I thought you had decided not to wear it."

Oliver smiled. "I did. I just wanted to see what you'd say."

Percy rolled his eyes and walked towards the door, opening it and pausing for a moment. "I'm leaving now, you cheeky prat. You can come along if you promise not to backsass everyone else along the way." He made to exit, and Oliver stood up grinning. He stopped and took onelook back at the dorm, one of the last times he would see it, and noticed Percy's hat sitting on his bed where it had been before.

"Perce," he called as hepoked his headout the door,looking afterthe redhead's retreating back, "I think you forgot..." Hepulled his head back in and lookeddown at the hat again. Then, smiling to himself, he stepped out of the dorm and shut the door behind him. Percy hadn't forgotten anything at all.

Author's note: Review and I will love you forever, maybe even give you happy Rufus Wainwright graphics! D You know you want the Rufus, you know you do...


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